The Fieldstone Review

slight epics

I Drunken bohemian waxwings in Whitehorse Yukon
their beaks redstained
tumble out of trees in november are rescued
recover in hamster cages til
sober enough to navigate
A number of each year’s flock will carouse
in frozen fermented berries
risking fatal intoxication
by fruitof rowan

II Construction cramps the darkening downtown
Toronto street as snow begins
Sewer grate snagsandmangles
rips from mycar its exhaust system
Impaled in hesitation’s din
i’m quizzed by a wearied
constituent of the hardhatted crew
“What’re you try’n t’do?”